literature

Carry Me to the Garden Door

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Questingpoet's avatar
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Literature Text

My love's the song I've never sang
yet knew the words by heart
The dream I once held close at hand
but lacked the will to start

Her gaze held something new inside
yet touch inflamed the old
And ruined for all time I was
Of lovers yet untold

Carry me to the garden door
Carry me one last time
And I will wait here patiently
I will wait, oh love of mine

I'd tell you of my truest love
Caress her name for days
But gone, now she has wandered off
And words are far too gray

Words cannot unmake the sorrow
Nor bring her back to me
But tell a tale of love they can
Of what as one we all could be

A better man you'll never find
Whose wretched life was changed
When found upon that earthen path
His soul without his name

Carry me to the garden, love
Carry me old and grey
I will guide us fair that morn
And there we both shall stay
God knows inspiration comes and goes. The Muses are indeed fickle. But some things go beyond inspiration...and muses. This is a poem about loving someone. Loving them so completely that even the dark, dank corners of our existence don't seem so terrifying. It's about growing old, dying, and being content with that. Being content with your love. I pray that we all find her, for I have...
© 2012 - 2024 Questingpoet
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NeverTheWanted's avatar
Your poetry always touches me, Keith... This is no exception.